"Hurr, us'n's was on'y talkin' to they funnybeasts in ee woods, marm."

"Funnybeasts? What funnybeasts?"

"Thurr wurr two of 'em, marm. They was whoit'n'blarck'n'blue, a-wurrin' gurt cloakers!"

Dannflor had trouble keeping a straight face. Wugger was obviously making up some kind of story to justify his visit to the walltop. "Two funny creatures, all white and black and blue, wearing great cloaks? What did you say to them?"

"Us'n's din't say nowt. They'm arsked if oi'd cumm down an' open ee likkle wallgate furr 'em."

"And what did you say?"

"Hurr, us'n's was a-goin' to, when ee rain cummed, then us'n's was too affrighted t'move."

"So, what happened to the two funnybeasts?"

Wugger spread both paws and blinked. "They'm gonned! Jus' vanished loik that, zurr!"

Dannflor smiled and winked at Tragglo, who nodded understandingly at the molebabe as if it all made sense.

" Ho, right you be, Wugger. The two funnybeasts just vanished, y'say?"

Wugger nodded, his little face completely serious. "Aye, zurr, that's roight!"

Sister Sloey wagged a severe paw under his nose. "You've eaten too many strawberries and made yourself ill. Straight up to bed for you, young moleyou too, blinny. Both of you have had quite enough for one day, pinching strawberries, playing on the wall in that thunderstorm and telling a pack of fibs. Now not another peep out of either of you. Straight upstairs this instant!"

Looking the picture of dejection, the two tiny moles, fur still standing up from their toweling, were led off to the dormitories by Sister Sloey. standing up from their toweling, were led off to the dormitories by Sister Sloey.

Friar Butty smiled at Nutwing. "Black, white an' blue creatures with great cloaks that vanish into thin air. What'll they think of next?"

The owl dried his spectacles off on a towel corner. "Hmm, mm. I blame their elders, telling tales of strawberry thieves who just went bang and were never seen again save for a red patch on the stairs. Little wonder that Dibbuns grow up telling fibs after hearing stories like that!"

Outside, the midafternoon resembled night as the storm roared around Redwall Abbey, lashing its ancient stones and causing the Mossflower treetops to sway wildly in its grip. Snug inside their comfortable Abbey, the creatures of Redwall, now warm and dry, took their ease in safety and calm.

Chapter 4.

Janglur Swifteye unfastened the tent canvas from his hack and tossed it expertly across two rocks that stood a small distance apart on a knoll overlooking a storm-swollen stream. Rimrose and Song weighted the canvas down with flat slabs of sandstone placed on its edges where they lapped the ground, working quickly, their heads bowed against the pelting rain. Grandma Ellayo hurried into the covered space between the rocks and swept out the wet leaves, creating a dry floor inside the makeshift shelter. Janglur dropped the last large slab on the rear of the canvas, making sure it was stretched taut so that it would not fill up and belly inward upon them. Straightening up, he blew rainwater from the tip of his nose, blinking hard against the scything curtains of wind-driven wetness. Rimrose and Song were already inside under cover, and Ellayo called out urgently to her son. "Git you in 'ere fast, afore that thunder bangs agin!" rear of the canvas, making sure it was stretched taut so that it would not fill up and belly inward upon them. Straightening up, he blew rainwater from the tip of his nose, blinking hard against the scything curtains of wind-driven wetness. Rimrose and Song were already inside under cover, and Ellayo called out urgently to her son. "Git you in 'ere fast, afore that thunder bangs agin!"

Dropping on all fours, the big squirrel scrambled into the confined shelter space, the others moving aside to make room for him. Ellayo jumped instinctively as a thunderclap sounded overhead. Janglur put a paw about her comfortingly. "There now, Mum, no need to be jumpin' about like shelter space, the others moving aside to make room for him. Ellayo jumped instinctively as a thunderclap sounded overhead. Janglur put a paw about her comfortingly. "There now, Mum, no need to be jumpin' about like a toad on a cinder. Thunder won't harm ye." a toad on a cinder. Thunder won't harm ye."

But Grandma Ellayo was not to be placated. "Mebbe thunder won't, but lightnin' will. Take that knife o' yourn an' bury it, son. Lightnin' has a way of findin' knives!"

Janglur knew there was a lot of truth in old wives' tales. Drawing the long blade he carried sheathed sideways across the back of his wide belt, he scratched a shallow trough, placed the knife inside and covered it. Lying flat on his stomach, he rested his chin on both paws, watching the stream being peppered with torrential rain as it pounded furiously on its course. Song joined him, while Rimrose and Ellayo snuggled down at the back of the shelter. Janglur nodded in their direction. "Take a tip from them, Song, an' rest while y'can. Nought else t'do but sleep this storm out."

The young squirrel watched the rain glumly. "When's it going to stop so we can get to Redwall Abbey?"

Her father shrugged. "It'll stop when 'tis ready to. Must be gettin' towards eventide now. If it ceases later on we may be able to travel by night. You have a good nap; I'll wake ye if it clears up."

Song tried to sleep, but the longer the bad weather continued, the less she felt like sleeping. Twilight lent a strange aspect to woodland and stream, and a weird gray-yellow nimbus hovered over the banksides, cast through with a dull lilac glow. Gradually she began to drift toward slumber, lulled by the sound of rainfall and swishing treetops, but then a sharp movement from her father brought her back to instant alertness.

"Be silent, Song, an' don't move. Look at the stream!"

A long logboat thundered by on the roiling current. Seated in the prow were two Marlfoxes, identical to the two they had encountered, and large scrawny water rats, some brown, others black or gray, packed the boat from stem to stern. The majority of the rats were paddling oars, skimming and sculling to keep the craft upright and on course, while the rest were kept busy bailing out stream-and rainwater with any implements they could lay claw to.

Janglur muttered to Song out of the side of his mouth, "lust as well they can't hear yore grandma snorin' in this liddle lot. Be still now, here comes another!"

A second logboat forged along in the wake of the first, langlur moved forward, poking his head out into the rain, peering upstream.

"There's more of 'em, another four if'n I ain't mistaken. Never seen aught like this afore. I'm goin' to take a look. You stay put, Song. Y'know where my dagger is if y'need 11. Don't wake your mum or grandma, what they don't know can't 'urt 'em. Be back soon!"

Not far from the knoll where they had camped a big gnarled crack willow overhung part of the stream, langlur Swifteye climbed it with surprising speed and grace for a squirrel of his size and weight. Skipping nimbly out along one of the main limbs that bent over the water, he tested it for firmness. Two more logboats had passed beneath the willow, their occupants unaware of the presence of a squirrel overhead. Janglur looped his tail and footpaws firmly around the sturdy bough, hanging downward almost as if he were part of the tree. Another logboat bobbed past on the turbulent waters. He let it sail by beneath him, noting that all the vessels were parked with water rats, but the only Marlfoxes were the two in the lead boat. Unwinding the sling from his waist, langlur readied himself as the final craft shot toward the willow, a foaming bow wave curling either side as it plied the water. Three rats in the stern were bailing busily. As the water. Three rats in the stern were bailing busily. As the logboat sped past beneath the watching Janglur, the hindmost rat bent to scoop up a bowlful of water. Suddenly, a noose settled around his neck and a paw clamped round his mouth like a vise. The rat's footpaws were logboat sped past beneath the watching Janglur, the hindmost rat bent to scoop up a bowlful of water. Suddenly, a noose settled around his neck and a paw clamped round his mouth like a vise. The rat's footpaws were hauled swiftly clear of the scuppers and the logboat shot hauled swiftly clear of the scuppers and the logboat shot on without him, his companions not even noticing his on without him, his companions not even noticing his departure. departure.

langlur flopped the water rat up over the willow limb like a landed fish, dealing him a sharp blow between ear and jawside. Working efficiently, he sat him on the branch, whipped the sling from the stunned rodent's neck and bound his middle to the tree. A soft moan escaped the rat's lips as he began to come around. Janglur patted his cheek playfully. "Hush a bye now, me ole cully, you sit there awhile until yore ready an' willin' t'do a bit o' talkin'!" a landed fish, dealing him a sharp blow between ear and jawside. Working efficiently, he sat him on the branch, whipped the sling from the stunned rodent's neck and bound his middle to the tree. A soft moan escaped the rat's lips as he began to come around. Janglur patted his cheek playfully. "Hush a bye now, me ole cully, you sit there awhile until yore ready an' willin' t'do a bit o' talkin'!"

Song watched her father emerge out of the sheeting rain. He was carrying a bundle and whistling cheerfully between his two front teeth. One of the lazy hooded eyes winked slyly at her as he ducked to enter the shelter.

"Found some nice dry pinewood back there. Must be the only bit o' timber left in Mossflower that ain't wet this evenin'."

Song unearthed the knife and took tinder and flint from their pack. Striking the flint against the spine of the blade, she blew softly on the bright sparks that fell on the dry mossy tinder. A thin blue column of smoke rewarded her efforts, followed by a glow and a tiny flame. Janglur began adding pine splinters until they had sufficient fire going to pile on some of the pine billets. Wakened by the smell of wood smoke, Rimrose held her paws out to the flame gratefully.

"A nice fire. Would you two like somethin' to eat?"

Grandma Ellayo's voice came from the back of the shelter. "Aye, us three would like a bite if y'don't mind!"

The last of their provisions was made into an acceptable meal. Song sliced up the final piece of Rimrose's traveling fruit and honey cake, while her grandma brewed a kettle of mint and comfrey tea. Rimrose had saved four oatcakes and a small wedge of cheese. She toasted the cheese and oatcakes together. The family sat by the fire, staring out into the rainswept night as they ate. Later Janglur took out his flute and played, encouraging Song to sing.

"I once knew an ant and I knew him right well, This ant he lived in a hazelnut shell, He had relations to count by the score, They used to come knocking on his tiny door.

One was called distant, he lived far away, Another was pleasant, he'd bid you good day, A third was constant, he was never away, Then there was hesitant, not sure he'd stay, And poor old reluctant not sure too, And one called valiant stout and true.

Now I'll tell you the reason they all came to call, "Cos this ant was the most important of all!"

As the final echo of the ballad died away a gruff voice called from the streambank, causing Ellayo to jump with fright, "Well sung, young missie. Y've got a fair pretty voice on yer!"

Song immediately grabbed for her father's knife, but Janglur stayed her paw, a smile flitting across his half-closed eyes as he replied, "Aye, better'n any ole scrag-furred shrew could sing, I'll wager!"

Surrounded by a party of Guosim, Log a Log strode up to the shelter.

"Hah! Janglur Swifteye, ye great fat branchbounder, I heard you was dead three seasons back!"

Janglur shook his old friend's paw heartily. "Log a Log Guosim, ye big-bellied brookbeast, I I heard you died more'n four seasons ago!" heard you died more'n four seasons ago!"

The shrew threw a paw about the squirrel's shoulders. "Well, we must be the two healthiest ghosts in the woodlands."

Introductions were made all around. The shrews joined their old logboat sails, which they carried with them, to Janglur's shelter. Using oars and dead branches, and taking advantage of nearby bushes, they soon extended the covered area. Log a Log sat by the fire, gratefully accepting a bowl of tea from Ellayo, while he told Janglur of what had befallen him and his tribe. The squirrel listened intently, then told Log a Log of his first encounter with the Marlfoxes. The shrew scratched his ear thoughtfully.

"D'you think the two you met are the same two who stole our boats?"

Janglur shook his head emphatically. "Impossible. We were too far apart, but I saw the two foxes that took yore boats this very evenin'."

Log a Log's paw grabbed his rapier hilt. "You saw 'em? Where?"

"They sailed right by here, round about twilight, six boatloads of 'em, water rats, with the two foxes sittin' for'ard in the first boat that passed. So I went t'take a look."

"So, tell me, what did y'see?"

The squirrel's long lashes flickered idly. "Wasn't much to see. I figgered they wouldn't stop to chat with me, so I worked the ole rear ambush an' captured one."

Log a Log leapt up and drew his rapier. "You captured one? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

Janglur rose with a sigh. "Because you called me fat an' said I was three seasons dead. Come on, stop lookin' so injured, an' I'll take you to him."

The water rat was fully conscious, but his face showed little emotion as Janglur loosed the bonds and hauled him down from the crack willow. Log a Log's rapier point was swiftly at the rodent's throat. The shrew's voice dripped menace.

"Now, matey, yore goin' t'do a bit o' fast talkin'. Who are these Marlfoxes, how many of 'em is there, an' what are you doin' in these parts? Make it easy on yoreself an' speak!"

The rat's face was blank, his eyes devoid of either fear or hatred of his captors.

Janglur prodded the rat's chest with a hard paw. "Where d'you come from? Are you from the same place as those foxes? I hear they come from a secret island at the center of a great lake. Tell us about it. Who rules there?"

The rat's expression never changed, though Log a Log noticed that his paws were trembling visibly. The shrew loaned close to Janglur and spoke in a whisper so the water rat would not hear them. "Wot d'yer make o' this one, mate? Mayhap he's a mute . . . Look out!"

Before either creature could stop him, the rat dashed back a few paces and flung himself into the swift-flowing stream. Log a Log and Janglur rushed to the water's edge and stood helplessly, watching as the rodent was swept away on the wild racing surge. It was far too rough and speedy, even for a water rat, and his paws struggled feebly against the surging mass until a broken rowan tree came hurtling like an arrow on the current. It struck the unfortunate rat and he sank instantly. Log a Log screwed up his face in disgust.

" Tis always bad when a life's wasted for no reason, even the life of a vermin like that'n."

langlur fastened the sling back around his waist. "I wouldn't say the rat's life was wasted fer no reason, mate. We mightn't know why he did it, but no creature could live in that current, so he knew what he was doin'. He must have been really terrified if he killed himself rather than betray any information."

The shrew stood staring at the spot where the rat had gone down. "Yore right, Swifteye. Let's go an' get some sleep. Mayhap we'll find the answer to all this when we reach the Abbey of Redwall."

The Wandering Noonvale Companions' cart was stuck up to its axles in mud. Florian wrung rain from the hems of his frock coat and bellowed mournfully. frock coat and bellowed mournfully.

"Oh, calamity, folly and woe unto us! Abroad on a night like this in the midst of a hurricane, nay a typhoon, a veritable deluge! And now, to cap it all, we are sinking slowly into the muddy oblivion of a bottomless quagmire. Brave hearts and faithful friends, 'tis a night for lamentations. Ooooh, lack a bally day, wot!" veritable deluge! And now, to cap it all, we are sinking slowly into the muddy oblivion of a bottomless quagmire. Brave hearts and faithful friends, 'tis a night for lamentations. Ooooh, lack a bally day, wot!"

Runktipp tried unsuccessfully to block a rip in the canvas of the covered cart with a pennant he had plastered with mud. "Aye, we could do with lackin' this day right enough. Pesky rain'll drive me off my spikes if it don't stop!"

Borrakul, who was caked in mud up to the waist from trying to get the cart unstuck, grinned mirthlessly. "Cheer up, we're only lost, starvin' an' likely to be drowned by mornin'. At least there's plenty o' water t'drink out there."

Roop twitched his nose at the otter. "Oi bain't thursty, thenkee, zurr, tho' 'tain't ee weather oi'm wurried over, 'tis Dwopple. Ee young maister's gone vurry quiet, an' oi doan't loik et!"

Deesum instantly leapt to the defense of her charge. "You're quite heartless, mister Roop. See, the dear little chap is slumbering innocently."

Elachim, the other otter brother, who was trying to sleep at the same end of the cart as the mousebabe, shifted his position, muttering, "Slumberin' innocently? The wretch is snorin' like thunder, an' he keeps tryin' to eat my tail in 'is dreams!"

Muggle flung her soggy turban at the otter. "Gurr! Doan't ee menshun eatin' again. Moi pore stummick is a-growglin' an' a-rowglin' loik thunner an' loightnin'!"

Dejectedly, Florian pulled out his battered one-string fiddle and plucked at it experimentally. "Tchah! Confounded wet weather's knocked it all out o' tune, wot!" Nevertheless, he scraped away at it with a tattered bow and began singing a song that he composed as he went along.

"Deah mothah I am hungry, hungry, An' starvin' as well to boot, Oh to be back home in your orchard, So full of delishowus froot.

If I perish'n'die before maaaawnin', My last thought will be of yewww, An' the smile on Father's whiskers, An' a whackin' great bowl of stewwww!

Are Grandpa's teeth still missin', The way I'm missin' yooooooou?

You're the nicest ma a son could have An' I've had quite a feeeeeewwww.

Fare thee well my dearest parents, For quite soon now I must die, But if I get home before midnight, Don't let Grandma eat all the pie!"

Florian's song was abruptly cut off when a soggy tunic flopped in his face. He removed the offending article, which had become tangled with his ears and whiskers, and held it up.

"Which rotter threw this? Own up immediately, wot?" he demanded with an air of injured dignity. demanded with an air of injured dignity.

The troupe stared at him in blank innocence. Baby Dwopple shook with malicious mirth, but kept his eyes tight shut, pretending to be asleep. He even threw in a couple of lusty snores for good effect. Deesum stroked his head fondly, murmuring, "So young, yet so talented. One day you will be a great actor!"

Night closed in around the little cart in the woodland as the rain continued to batter down. rain continued to batter down.

Chapter 5.

The lake was so huge that nobeast standing on any part of the shoreline could tell that its sweeping vastness held an island at its center. Not even birds, because they knew better than to try to fly across the lake. Whipping up the surface into a frenzy of crested waves, the storm raged throughout the night hours. Rain howled like a wild thing, driven by the winds. From the billowing masses of black and purple-bruised cloud that obscured the moon, thunder crashed and lightning ripped down in a flickering dance across the heaving waters.

Inside Castle Marl a grim-faced band of brown-liveried water rats were trying to drown out the storm noise with music. They plucked at stringed instruments, struck small gongs and played strange melodies on flutes and pipes of varying sizes. From cellars to attics they paraded, up and down the fortress's many ramps. There were no stairs inside Castle Marl, just steeply sloping ramps, winding or angled, everywhere. The odd group followed a curtained palanquin, a long boxlike affair with silken tasseled drapes around its sides, borne on four thick poles running beneath its length and width. Over a score and a half rats bore the odd conveyance, treading with carefully measured paces, so that the box was kept perfectly steady at all times, and by the side of the palanquin strode a Marlfox. When a sharp tapping noise issued from within the covered box, the carriers stopped moving instantly. A harsh rasping voice sounded from behind the silken curtains.

"Lantur! Tell them to play louder. I will not be disturbed by weather noises, for I am mightier, more powerful than storms! These fools must play louder. The storm stopped me sleeping, so they must outplay it. That is my command!"

The Marlfox, Lantur, strode back to the musicians, who had already heard the order. Nevertheless, she repeated it in the imperious tone of one used to commanding others.

"The High Queen Silth decrees that you play louder. If you disobey the royal word you will all answer to the Teeth of the Deeps. Play louder! You there, bring the Chanters so they may add to the music by singing the High Queen's praises!"

More water rats were quickly brought to join the band. At a nod from Lantur the procession continued, the Chanters droning along in time with the musicians.

"All-powerful mighty Queen, whose beauty has ne'er been surpassed, Far brighter than the sun, whose rays it will outlast, We live to serve you truly, until our final breath, Knowing you hold all secrets, the power of life and death, Wisest of wise, greatness sublime, Rules o'er our isle for all time."

Rats with incense burners scurried ahead of the bearers, wafting sweet smoke into the air so that it would drift down between the curtains. Lantur drew close to the palanquin and spoke in a comforting, wheedling tone. "You see, O Queen, whatever your heart desires is yours."

The harsh rasping voice came back to her, childish and complaining. "I cannot bear not to be surrounded by beauty and calm. Oh, my head hurts with the noise of the thunder, lightning flashes through my brain! Tell them to play louder, Lantur. Louder!"

The Marlfox smiled as she bowed low. She resembled the four who had accosted Janglur Swifteye and the Noonvale Companions, but was slightly smaller, and finer-featured in a sinister way. Silkily, she said, "Your wish is my command, All-Powerful One!"